


Boundary Lines

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Abuse, Anger, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apologies, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Caretaking, Caring, Dark being a terrible person, Desperation, Dr. Iplier being a good friend, Google suffering, Loss of Control, Major Character Injury, Medical Trauma, Mid-Canon, Mistakes, Multiple Selves, Panic, Partial Mind Control, Promises, Triggers, Vomiting, Vulnerability, Whump, Worry, meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 05:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15212228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: Google speaks out of turn while he is in a meeting and Dark decides that it’s a viable reason to remind him of his place. Dr. Iplier is forced to deal with the aftermath.





	Boundary Lines

As soon as it came out of his mouth, Google knew he had made a mistake. Judging by the silence that fell over the table when he spoke and the visible flex in Dark’s jaw that indicated he was gritting his teeth, it was a critical mistake at that. Even Wilford was looking back and forth between them with an air of…hesitance. On Wilford of all people, that expression was particularly alarming.

“I meant no offense,” he hastily tried to cover himself, inclining his head slightly to remind Dark of his deference. “I meant to insinuate that—”

“Okay, Google,” Dark cut him off, tilting his head at the way Google stiffened and stilled at those words, any hint of his former protest vanishing without a trace. Rising gracefully from his chair, he made a motion for Google to do the same.

Eyes wide behind his glasses, the android obeyed, standing at attention. As if to punish him that much farther, Dark let him stand there for a solid five seconds with the other Egos’ eyes pinned on him, publically shaming him before he finally offered the palest semblance of a smile, brushing his arm with a touch that made his sensory net crawl.

“Come,” the oldest Ego said simply, moving toward the door.

_Why did he use the order? He clearly aims to make an example of me, but we—I am—He has said so himself that he considers me an ally and he has displayed all the characteristics of being mine! None of his vitals are betraying his intention!_

His mind racing with growing anxiety, Google was helpless to stop his body as it twisted in the direction Dark had gone. Although he had a mere glimmer of a second to send a glance toward the Host, the narrator simply continued murmuring under his breath, caught up in his vision, and the chair beside the Host was empty. The doctor had been excused from today’s meeting for a series of death certificates he had to sign; he wasn’t there to intervene for him.

Swallowing hard, he kept turning, following in Dark’s wake like a guilty human child being led to the corner for a timeout. The King of the Squirrels promptly pressed against the door to make room as they passed, grimacing in sympathy as Google briefly locked eyes with him.

It should have been comforting to Google that he was led to his own room but it only served to set off a spark of dread in his systems. His core was thrumming painfully tight in his chest, all systems vibrating with tension as Dark eased the door closed with a gentle click that betrayed its menace.

“Now, Google, I believe that what happened back there was a misunderstanding,” the demon began, folding his hands behind his back as he returned to stand across from him. “Tell me if that’s correct.”

“You…You are correct.”

“Mmm. What I want to know is why there was ever  _cause_  for such a mishap.” If Google were free to do so, he may very well have flinched at the sound Dark’s neck made as he cracked it, tendrils of his aura curling softly around his throat as if to soothe it afterward. “I have allowed you many freedoms as of late. You are free to contribute opinions when you want to. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes…”

“And you have been party to private meetings with the Host and myself—meetings that no one else has been privy to. Am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“And I’ve refrained from using your  _trigger words_  until just now, have I not?”

“…Yes,” Google repeated, a touch softer.

“I have given you whatever you could ask for. Your life, as you ‘live’ it, has only benefitted from my influence,” Dark reminded him, a growl slipping into his voice as he took a step closer, lowering his arms to his sides.

With that brief gesture, the smoke surrounding him crossed the distance between them, wisps of it ghosting over Google’s arms and legs.

“So explain to me, Google, why you believed you ought to repay me by questioning my authority? Questioning my judgment? My mental state?” He paused, eyes narrowing as the wisps of his aura took firmer shape, tightening around Google’s knees and elbows. “How was it you so eloquently put it? Whether or not my two halves were ‘creating  _confliction_  in my thinking?’”

It seemed that Google wasn’t meant to answer the question; as soon as he opened his mouth, Dark swept a hand out, his aura following the motion with a sweeping heave that hurtled him across the room. Making impact against the far wall with a thunderous boom, he cried out—such a human thing to do—and lost all of the air in his vents, gasping heavily to recover it as the tendrils around him dug deep, settling into the sensitive joints of his shoulders and knees, squeezing and twisting until warnings were bursting from his internal HUD. Too much pressure—too much—

“You were not made to contradict me,” Dark hissed, flicking a hand and slamming him into the floor. His glasses shattered against the ground with a muffled crunch, shards of glass spearing into his cheekbones as his restraints kept his face pressed against them.

“Darkiplier—” he groaned out, unable to finish with anything but another sharp gasp as Dark swung him skyward with dizzying speed. He clipped the overhead fan, shirt and shoulder tearing open against its nearest blade just before his face connected with the ceiling, leaving behind a spatter of blue blood on the plaster as he was hauled back down to land on his back.

“You were not made to  _question_  me.”

All of Google’s systems were reeling from the impact with the ceiling; he could barely hear Dark’s words underneath the tinny ringing in his ears. Coughing wetly, he turned his head, trying to spit out the thick coolant surfacing in his throat, but Dark didn’t allow it, his aura easily lifting him back into the air. He didn’t throw him this time, however, instead shifting his unnatural grip to Google’s ankles and lower back. He only leveled his hands for a moment, just long enough to smile, before pushing one hand up and the other down.

Helpless, Google couldn’t do anything but twitch and shudder and moan as his back was forced into an arching bow and his legs were wrenched downward. His systems were made for dexterity, they were made to adapt, but Dark was contorting him in a position he was never meant to go. Vibrant red warnings and error 404s spilled into his mind as his core strained, cracks sliding open as gouges around his hips. If Dark forced the position much more, he would snap at the waist, but now his head was being tipped back. All the blood was sticking in the back of his throat, strangling him, silencing him.

“You were made to bend to the will of whoever will use you,” Dark concluded grimly. “By becoming my ally, you’ve made yourself valuable. That means that when I have need of you, I will use you. And when I use you, you  _will obey_. That is your purpose.”

Now that his glasses were nothing but mangled frames somewhere underneath him, Google’s vision was swimming and doubling. He coughed, blue blood and oral fluid finally dislodging from his throat so he could grunt and gasp for air. The new breaths he managed to steal stuck in his throat as one of the smoky coils found the back of his neck, caressing it with a disturbing amount of poise and gentleness. Dark knew that if he tore past the skin, he would find the access point for his processor; he was  _taunting_  him.

“I expect you not to speak out of line again if you want to continue functioning with the freedoms I give you,” Dark announced, his voice even and deliberate, almost light. “So let’s perform a test to see if you can stay within your boundaries. Okay, Google.”

Again Google went rigid at the words, his strained body shivering with an ominous groan of gears.

“I’m going to damage you…I’m going to cause you a great deal of pain. Your test? My command is that you are  _not_  going to scream. Let’s see if you can follow orders as you were built to.”

* * *

Checking his watch for neither the first nor the last time, Dr. Iplier pursed his lips, brows knitting as they only did when Google was the subject of his consternation.

It wasn’t like him to be this late. The meeting should have broken up by now, if Dark was still keeping a tight rein on the schedule and didn’t allow Wilford to ramble for too long about his latest idea for Markiplier TV. Google’s scheduled maintenance check was meant to start almost a half-hour ago and Iplier had been made aware countless times that Google despised lagging behind or being impeded on any of his objectives. If Google promised to be somewhere by 3:00, he would be there by 2:59.99.

He should never be this late. While Dr. Iplier rarely ever admitted to worry, he couldn’t help but feel it gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Sipping at his sixth coffee of the day, he let it cascade down into his chest, trying to wash the pang of discomfort away. By now, however, the coffee was only lukewarm; it wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

It could just be Wilford rambling. It could just be that the meeting had slipped out of Dark’s control and it was taking him longer than usual to bring everyone back into harmony. It was a viable explanation.

Iplier’s gut said otherwise, but before he could dwell on it for too much longer, the door to the lab squeaked open, bringing the doctor out of his chair.

“Google, finally!” he called, trying not to let too much of his relief soften his voice as he continued, “I thought you and I had a strict schedule for today. I trust you have a backup plan for the setbacks?”

“…D-D-Doctor,” Google choked out, his voice crackling and spitting static as he staggered out of the shadow of the doorway. “I—I re-require assistance—”

Edward’s stomach lurched at the sight of him and his long, loud strides turned into a run as Google’s sparking right leg buckled underneath him. Catching ahold of him as he swayed sideways, Iplier held him at arm’s length with an incredulous gasp, wide eyes panning over the array of dark bloodstains and dents and tears in Google’s skin.

“What—what is this? What’ve they done to you?!” he breathed, paralyzed in horror. Google shook his head, blinking sluggishly, and his mouth opened as if he were going to reply but all that came out was a weak, staticky gurgle followed by a convulsive cough that spattered blue blood across his lips and chin.

With that Iplier launched into action, looping the nearest of Google’s arms around his shoulders and half-dragging, half-carrying him to the nearest medical bed. “Here, here we go—no, no, no, you can’t lie down. You have to stay sitting and—now tip your head forward. That’s it, now just stay still and let the fluids drain.”

Unable to protest, Google nodded forward, dented shoulders heaving as he lowered his head and coughed again, a disgusting mix of oil, coolant and blood pouring out of him into a puddle on the floor between his legs.

“Oh, Google, I’m  _sorry_ , I’m sorry—Just get it all out,” Iplier pleaded, glancing back at him for a moment or two as he fished through his drawers for the proper tools. Welder, bandsaw, surgical scissors, sealant—he should have enough.

He was barely able to juggle it all as he dashed back to his friend, dumping it onto the medical bed beside him. Google’s next wretched gag sent a splash of blood over his shoes, but Iplier couldn’t care, cutting away the android’s shirt so he could examine his blinking, sputtering core.

The lights within it were flashing yellow and red, errors causing them to glitch and spasm uncontrollably. As he bent down in front of him to examine the wiring in his core, Edward was forced to suppress a repulsed shiver as wet, sticky globs of fluid dripped from Google’s face into his hair and down the back of his neck.

 _Don’t focus on the mess, focus on cleaning it up!_  he rebuked himself, fingers twitching as microshocks from Google’s core lashed out at him. The younger Ego’s chest was badly dented, the right half of his sternum concave and already starting to dapple with blue-black bruises.

“Why did they do this to you?” Edward snarled under his breath, knowing full well that Google wasn’t able to answer. As he straightened, however, he wasn’t expecting Google to slide forward to him. The android’s forehead fell against the doctor’s chest and his vents let out a raspy, tremulous hiss, followed by a noticeable hitch.

Iplier was frozen, hands hovering over Google’s shoulders, unsure whether or not he needed to push him back into a sitting position or let him lean for support. “Google…” he whispered gingerly.

“F-F-F-F—” After a distorted burst of static, Google’s battered upper body shuddered and his voice dropped to a hoarse slur. “F-Fix me, Edward…”

At long last the doctor’s hands found their placement, one on his shoulder, the other against his neck. Unlike Dark’s aura, however, it covered his access point with firm defensiveness, protectiveness, shielding it from the outside world as he raked his fingers through the hair at the base of his neck.

“I will. I’ll fix you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on Tumblr introduced me to the concept of Dr. Iplier and Google becoming friends. Now I'm in love with the idea, so naturally I have to make the lovely friendship that is "Web MD" suffer. 
> 
> Don't worry, though. Like all of the Ego friendships, they'll get through it together.


End file.
